Chapter 4: The Final Stage

"My mother's only reason for living was to sing."
The daughter said this in the meeting room of Kazuki Ceremonies.
Hyo Kazuki looked up from the request form. The woman in front of him was probably in her mid-fifties.
Her face, which seemed to be looking at something far away, wore a small smile.
Deep within that smile, one could see the fatigue peculiar to someone who had finished a long period of caregiving.
"Your mother was an enka singer, wasn't she?"
"Yes," the daughter nodded. "She was quite famous around here back in the day."
The name was on the request form.
Reiko Matsunaga.
Age at death: seventy-six.
Former enka singer.
She had been active mainly in regional tours and was said to have been so popular that everyone in the local area knew her.
Hyo flipped through the documents.
Photos from her youth. Her figure singing under the spotlight. A glamorous smile. She was like someone from another world.
"What are your wishes?"
The daughter hesitated for a moment before saying, "For the end," and then she smiled.
"I want to send her off as if she were on stage."

It was as expected.
"Denied," Genzo said as soon as he returned to the funeral hall.
"I haven't even said anything yet."
"It's written all over your face."
Hyo sat in a chair. "It's a stage-style altar."
"A funeral home isn't a concert hall."
"Isn't it fine?" "It is not."
"It will definitely look great." "It's inappropriate."
"Is that a compliment?" "No."
Genzo continued while sorting white chrysanthemums. "It's a place to send off the deceased."
"That's exactly why," Hyo said, waving the documents. "Isn't this her life itself?"
Genzo snorted. "First, go investigate."
"Yes, yes."

The deceased's home was surprisingly quiet.
A singer's house. He had imagined something flashier.
Trophies lined up. Certificates displayed. Posters on the walls. A room like that.
But the reality was different.
There were few photos. No records. There was almost no trace of her having been a singer.
Hyo tilted his head. "Was she really a singer?"
The daughter gave a wry smile. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?"
Then her expression clouded over slightly. "She stopped singing after she got sick ten years ago."
"Sick?"
"Her vocal cords."
Hyo fell silent.
"After that, she didn't listen to music or watch old videos," the daughter said, looking out the window. "I think she probably grew to hate it."

It was when he was about to leave.
He saw a cardboard box in the back of the closet.
"What's that?"
"Ah," the daughter smiled. "It's her costumes."
He opened the box. They were flashy.
Gold thread. Silver thread. Sequins. Costumes made to catch the stage lights. It was like a treasure chest.
Hyo looked at them one by one.
And then.
His hand stopped at the very bottom.
An old cassette tape. Handwritten on the label: 'Before Debut'.
Hyo looked up. "May I listen to it?"
The daughter nodded.

He pressed the play button.
Static noise. And then.
A singing voice. Young. Rough. The pitch was a bit unstable.
But, she sounded happy.
It wasn't because she was a good singer. It was a voice that said she was happy just to be singing.
Hyo closed his eyes.
And realized.
No.
This person didn't grow to hate singing. She just found it painful to see herself unable to sing.

Around the same time.
Genzo was also on the move. Uncharacteristically, he had left the site and was visiting old acquaintances.
The fan club president. A former manager. Staff from a local hall. Everyone said the same thing.
"Reiko-san looked happy."
"When she was singing?" Genzo asked.
Then everyone shook their heads.
"No."
"Huh?"
"In the wings of the stage."
"Before the show started."
"When she was peeking at the audience."
"She looked happiest then."
Genzo fell into thought.
It wasn't the singing. It was the audience.
What she loved was...

The next day.
Kazuki Ceremonies.
Hyo spread out his blueprint vigorously. "It's a stage."
Genzo placed a different blueprint down. "It's the audience seating."
"Huh?" "It's the audience seating." "It's a stage." "Audience seating." "Stage." "Audience seating." "Stage." "Audience seating." "Stage!" "Audience seating!"
Both of them stood up.
At that moment.
The office door opened. He had a bad feeling about this.
It was Sayuri Kazuki.
She looked at the two of them. Looked at the blueprints. One word: "How long are you going to keep this up?"
It was quiet. But both of them sat down at the same time.
"...Excuse us." "Yeah."
Sayuri picked up the blueprints. She looked at them for a while.
And then.
"Why don't you do both?" She said just that and left.
Silence.
Hyo and Genzo looked at each other.
And then.
"That's it."
It was simultaneous.

The day of the funeral.
The attendees who entered the venue stopped in their tracks.
The altar was different from usual. In the center was a stage. A stage made of flowers. In the center of that was a portrait of the deceased.
But what was truly surprising was what was in front of it.
The flower offering stands were arranged in a semicircle. Just like audience seating. Every time an attendee offered flowers, the seats filled up.
One seat.
Another seat.
Another seat.
The flower audience grew. The daughter stood there, stunned.
Eventually.
She whispered, "It's a full house."
It was a voice so small no one else could hear it. But Hyo, who was standing next to her, heard it.
The daughter shed tears. "Mom."
She looked up at the altar. Soft lighting instead of spotlights. A full audience. The smile in the center.
"That's great," her voice trembled. "It's a full house."
An elderly man behind her laughed. He had been a fan from the old days.
"The show's starting."
Those around them laughed. While crying. They laughed. Seeing that scene, Hyo laughed too.
And a little further away, Genzo was also looking at the altar. He didn't say anything.
Just, the corners of his mouth were relaxed ever so slightly.

The night after the ceremony.
Hyo said while cleaning up, "This time it's a joint victory."
Genzo replied immediately, "I'm not satisfied with that."
"But the audience seating idea was good."
"Your stage wasn't bad either."
Hyo froze.
"Just now," "What?" "Did you compliment me?"
"It's your imagination." "You did compliment me, didn't you?" "It's your imagination." "I wanted to record that."
"Hyo." "Yes." "Shut up." "Yes."
Three seconds later.
"But--" "I told you to shut up!"
A roar echoed.
At that moment, the office door opened.
Genzo and Hyo reflexively straightened their posture.
It was Sayuri. "You never learn, do you?"
She placed a request form down with a sigh.
Hyo picked it up. Read it. Froze.
"Genzo-san." "What?"
"The next client." "Yeah."
"Is a former professional wrestler."
Genzo frowned.
Hyo continued reading. And then he burst out laughing.
The request form read as follows:
--I want you to send him off as if he were in the ring.
Silence.
Genzo looked up at the ceiling.
Hyo had a huge smile on his face.
"This looks interesting."
"It's a hassle."

Amidst the scent of white chrysanthemums, the next battle for Kazuki Ceremonies was about to begin.